Absquatulate

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

//Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club.//

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

FIGHT TO THE DEATH

Asami nervously taps her fingers against her thigh while watching others mingle in the room. She flinches in surprise when someone grabs her hand and intertwines their fingers. "Calm down," Kyoya whispers as he leans over to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"I can't." She hisses with a strained smile on her face. "Your father and my grandmother are planning to parade us around like cattle."

"At least we're pretty cattle." He comments and fails to hide his amusement as she playfully hits his arm.

"Don't make me laugh. They'll think I'm enjoying myself." She snorts quietly.

He tilts his head, studying her with a teasing gleam in his eyes. "You should be. You're doing great. No one's guessed you're five seconds away from bolting."

"Four seconds," she mutters, squeezing his hand harder than necessary. "And if one more person asks me how excited I am about our engagement—"

"Then we vanish. Balcony, back hallway, wine cellar. Your call." He mumbles.

"You're awful at this whole formal event thing. I thought you'd be a pro since you grew up surrounded by this." She comments.

"I am great at this whole formal event thing, I am also great at disappearing unnoticed for periods of time." The two exchange a look of understanding when the atmosphere changes in the room.

A hush of expectation ripples through the room as Yoshio Ootori glides through the room. Asami observes how people straighten their posture and turn their downwards as he passes by them. Behind him, a fraction of a step slower but just as commanding, walk Shizue Souh, her eyes narrowing at Asami.

"Asami. Kyoya." Yoshio's voice slices through their semi-private moment like a scalpel. "Come. It's time you made yourselves useful." Kyoya straightens, his mask slipping on with expert ease; gone was the teasing glints in his eyes, replaced by a cold and calculated gleam. Asami tightens her grip on his hand for half a second before letting go, smoothing her dress and following them toward a waiting group of high-society elites. She recognizes some of the faces from the first party she attended to introduce herself to important and powerful people: heads of banks, hospital directors, corporate magnates.

"This is Souh Asami and Ootori Kyoya," Shizue announces with a prideful smirk, "You'll be seeing a great deal of them in the coming years. We will be formally announcing their engagement at the gala." Asami's smile doesn't falter for a moment, but her heart gives a painful jolt at the thought of forever being stuck with someone at her age. Yoshio doesn't look at them—only at the reactions of their guests, watching for even the subtlest shift in expression.

A man, Asami recognizes as being from the board of the Ootori Medical Group, steps forward, bowing politely. "A fine match. The union of your families will secure influence across many sectors." Asami offers a perfectly measured curtsy, lips parted in a polite murmur of agreement. Inside, she can feel her spine stiffening under the weight of being a legacy rather than a person—'Tamaki may be the face of the family but I am the true power behind it' she reminds herself and feels even more dread building up within her. More people step forward to introduce themselves to the couple. Asami tries to catalogue every face to their name in her head, but there are too many people and too much information all at once. As the crowd begins to die down, she squeezes Kyoya's hand twice, and he immediately excuses them from more conversation and escorts her over to the beverage bar.